


The wrong (and right) way to name a bakery

by c0cunt



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bakery, Pranks and Practical Jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 08:32:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12317454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c0cunt/pseuds/c0cunt
Summary: Hunk hadn't known exactly what he was going to name his bakery:  He had everything planned out for it, down to the tile flooring, but he hadn't picked a name.  So when Lance jumped at the chance to offer up a name, Hunk let him at it (only to be disappointed).





	The wrong (and right) way to name a bakery

**Author's Note:**

> the idea of this was inspired by [this art by lohkay](https://twitter.com/lohkay/status/916090668216328192) on Twitter
> 
> and now we're here

Hunk couldn’t believe his eyes.  It was, in one word, an atrocity.  Sure, he  _ had _ given Lance creative freedom (god, did Hunk regret that now), but he wasn’t expecting... _ This. _

 

“Lance, no.”  Hunk tried to say firmly, staring at the golden sign, that would probably make a pretty impressive glare when the sun hit it right.

 

“Lance  _ yes,” _ Lance responded enthusiastically, clapping his hands in glee as he presented their bakery’s sign.   _ Boypie _ was etched into the gold, filled in with silver, and Hunk wondered distantly just how much money Lance had thrown into this.

 

“We can’t call our bakery boypie, that’s…”  Hunk struggled to find the right words.  Unsanitary?  Indecent?   _ Wrong? _  All very good words, but none of them made it past Hunk’s lips.  He was, quite frankly, stunned speechless in the bad way.

 

_ “Huuuuuunk, _ you said to just pick something!  We’re two strapping young lads.  Boys, if you will.  And we make pie.  Exactly as the sign says!”  Lance protested, amused and slightly evil grin splitting his entire face.  The longer Hunk stared in horror, the harder it was for Lance to hold in the laughter that was threatening to spill out, as his best friend did his best to try and soften the ‘oh fuck no’ that Hunk  _ definitely _ wanted to say.

 

“I...I can’t Lance, I genuinely cannot have a business called  _ boypie.” _  Hunk’s voice cracked, on the verge of tears.  A metal sign like this one appeared to be probably cost a  _ fortune, _ and Hunk was already in debt just trying to get the bakery off the ground with the equipment he had from home.  Lance’s grin disappeared immediately when Hunk’s hands slowly covered his face, despair replacing horror.

 

“Wai-Hunk, no, wait, you’re supposed to be - are you crying?”  Lance stuttered helplessly, tripping over his own feet in his hurry to comfort his best friend.  Hunk resolutely shook his head no, but refused to move his hands when Lance carefully tried to pry them away from covering his eyes.  “Listen, listen, it’s just a big piece of wood that I painted as a joke!  The real sign isn’t coming in for another two days, and the name on it  _ definitely _ isn’t boypie,” Lance frantically tried to assure Hunk, flipping the sign over to the unpainted side, which was indeed wood.  

 

Hunk peeked through the gaps between his fingers, revealing red-rimmed watery eyes, staring blankly at the prank sign.  If he wasn’t already stressed three times to hell and back, maybe Hunk would’ve laughed, but as it was, he could barely let out a relieved sigh.  He wouldn’t have to explain why his bakery was named Boypie to anyone - but then, that left whatever Lance really  _ had _ picked, and his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

 

“You better not have picked anything really terrible,” Hunk grumbled, swiping a balled up fist underneath each eye to mop up stray tears.  Lance dropped the board with a loud  _ thud _ that echoed in the mostly empty space that would soon be filled with little round tables and padded chairs in his mad scramble to grasp Hunk’s hands in his own, as solemn-faced as possible.

 

“I promise you, I picked something good.  And if you don’t like it, I’ll pay to have a new name and logo printed and put on the aprons and stuff.”  Lance said seriously, holding onto Hunk’s hands until Hunk finally looked up at him.  Once he gained eye contact, a tiny smile spread across Lance’s face, before adding “and you gotta admit, boypie is the  _ dumbest _ fake name ever.”

 

Hunk snorted loudly at that, as he shook Lance’s hands off his own.  “You really had me going there, buddy.  It looked really convincing,” Hunk still eyed the board warily, as if it would bite them and then hang itself up in the shop.  Lance just grinned, before he gathered up the stupid sign.

 

“Of  _ course _ it’s convincing!  What sort of person would I be if I half-assed a prank?” Lance snarked, already on his way out the back door, signage in tow.  Hunk was some cross of concerned and confused, but he shook the feeling away quickly:  He still had a lot of work to do, if he wanted to keep the timeline he had initially set for the bakery’s opening day.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Three weeks later, Hunk had almost completely forgotten the prank sign incident, with how stressed he was.  Starting a business was  _ a lot _ more money, time, and effort than Hunk had ever imagined, and he had to scoop up even more shifts at work (sometimes pulling double shifts) to be able to afford all of the mounting bills.  However, Hunk remembered the sign prank when Lance called him at the end of a particularly long shift, when he was aching all over so much that he wanted to cry.  Frozen, Hunk watched his phone vibrate what seemed like a million times, before it went still and  _ bleep _ ’ed, announcing a voicemail.  Another few minutes passed before Hunk could gather the energy to hear it, a little pit of dread growing in his chest.

 

“Huuuuunk!  The sign is here, and so’re the uniforms!”  Lance’s voice sang cheerfully (if tinnily) on the voicemail he left.  That was the extent of the message, but already Hunk was moving swiftly, fatigue forgotten:  He wanted to see what logo Lance had picked out, find out if he’d have to kill his best friend for screwing him over…

 

The two block walk over to the bakery went much faster than Hunk had expected it to.  But maybe with the additional nerves, it just  _ felt _ that much quicker, and Hunk could see lights glowing through the dark paper that he’d taped to the windows, to keep curious eyes out before the place was ready.  Lance must’ve made himself at home, with the spare key that Hunk had given him, which was just  _ such _ a Lance thing to do that Hunk couldn’t help a laughing snort as he shouldered his way through the back door.  He could hear Lance’s phone screaming out some song that echoed through the kitchen, and Hunk couldn’t help stroking a hand over the stainless steel work station that he would be using in less than two weeks.  Sometimes it just hit him over the head, that all of his hard work had paid off, and that he was going to be opening the bakery that he’d always wanted…

 

“Hunk!  C’mon buddy, I heard you come in, stop lollygagging back here, you  _ have _ to see the logo!”  Lance’s yelling broke the reverent silence Hunk had fallen into, and nearly caused Hunk to shriek.  As it was, Hunk only jumped about five feet in the air, before grumbling and heading through the hinge door with a comeback on his tongue, that went dry as he saw the bakery’s logo.

 

_ Grateful Grains Bakery _ was sunken into a large, copper sign, the letters filled in with the same cool mint green that Hunk had picked for plates and mugs.  Before Hunk could become too transfixed, Lance pulled an apron out of one of the two boxes he had been using as a seat, to show off the same logo in the green on a black apron.  With a shaking hand, Hunk reached out to take hold of the apron, and clutched it to his chest, blinking back tears as his emotions went haywire.  After  _ years _ of planning, this was really happening.  Hunk’s bakery would be open  _ soon, _ he had two people  _ working _ for him.  Lance pulled him into a tight hug, not even minding his shoulder getting slightly damp.

 

“I cried when I saw them too, it came out  _ so good,” _  Lance gushed, but then quieted down to let Hunk have his moment.  Once Hunk stopped crying, mopping his face with the new apron, Lance continued; “Maybe next week, Shiro and I can start coming in for some of that training you were talking about?  Not that I need  _ any _ customer service training, but still.”  

 

Hunk couldn’t help a watery laugh, as he looked around the bakery.  Small tables had finally found their places, with matching chairs; a long, soft couch took up most of one of the walls, with a coffee table spanning the space in front of it.  Hunk still had to set up the register and card reader, but the counter beside the waiting display cases seemed up to the task.  

 

“Yeah yeah, but if I catch you giving drinks to pretty people for free, you’re out of here in a minute flat,” Hunk said, half jokingly….Maybe a little less than ‘half’.  Lance just snorted, closing the box flaps and urging Hunk out the back door.  Hunk sighed and let himself be dragged, flipping off all the lights on his forced exit.  “But yeah, I’ll call Shiro in the morning, and let him know training starts in a few days,” Hunk added, once he had been manhandled out the back door and Lance was fumbling for the right key to lock up with.  Lance just hummed, much more focused on the jangling, giant mess that was his key ring - containing at least two dozen more keys than he actually  _ had _ or needed.  A moment later, the door was locked, and Hunk had two less things to worry about in the upcoming opening.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!! comments & kudos are appreciated!!


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